Yellow Carrots
by EmyPink
Summary: “Yellow, her favourite colour was yellow, like the sun.” Established Gabby. Written for the NFA Gabby Challenge.


**Yellow Carrots**

By EmyPink

**Disclaimer:** NCIS is not mine, I've just borrowed them.

_Written for the NFA Gabby Challenge_

**Rating:** PG

**Genre:** Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort

**Characters:** Gibbs, Abby

**Parings:** Gabby

**Warnings:** None, except for the fact that this is my first Gabby fic . . . a paring I never write, and rarely read. So be warned, it may not be perfect.

**Word Count: **2,012 words

* * *

"I'll be back in a minute," Abby yelled as she ascended the stairs of her boyfriend's home. "I'm just going to the little ladies' room. Don't start without me."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Gibbs' voice echoed from the kitchen and Abby smiled widely. Gibbs was putting the finishing touches on their romantic dinner for two. They hadn't had the time to share each other's company, really share each other's company, recently, and they were missing each other. The constant stream of bodies and crimes had kept them on their toes. But now, they had finally managed to steel a night, and they planned to enjoy it anyway they could.

Abby hummed to herself as she stepped off the last stair and headed in the direction of Gibbs' bathroom. She knew this house really well, and knew exactly which floorboard to step on to make it squeak. It made the familiar sound and Abby smiled; it reminded her of Bert, her faithful hippo.

As she neared the bathroom, a soft light that seemed to glow caught the corner of her eye. She stopped, and turned. Abby followed the stream of light and found its source, the master bedroom. Sighing, Abby stepped over to the door, thinking that Gibbs must have forgotten to switch of the light. She pushed it open, letting it swing back and creak. Gibbs really needed to oil the hinges.

Muttering to herself, Abby half walked into the bedroom and swung around in order to flick the switch. Just as she was about to turn off the light, Abby spotted a small wooden box sitting peacefully on Gibbs' bed. It was open, and about half a dozen photo-shaped objects were fanned across the bed.

Intrigued, Abby sauntered over to the bed and sat down on the mattress, making it bounce. She smiled, she loved looking at photographs. She reached for the nearest photo and plucked it off the bed. With sparkling eyes, she brought the photograph to her face. As she carefully took in the figures in the photograph, she faltered.

Her grip on the photo slackened and her arm fell loosely to her side. Abby had seldom seen photographs like this. In fact, she noted, she hadn't seen any photos of this kind displayed in his house, and the only time she'd seen one, it was because Abby had been pulling photo albums off the shelf and cooing over the child Gibbs. It had fallen into her lap and once Gibbs noticed, he had wordlessly picked it up, gently taken the album off her, inserted the photo back into the album and slipped it back onto the shelf. They hadn't spoken of the moment, and Abby had enough common sense not to mention it, even though she had wanted to.

But now, it was staring her in the face again, and she couldn't deny her feelings, or curiosity, any more. Abby brought the photograph to her face and cocked her head to the side. She studied the photograph and sighed. The younger Gibbs was smiling widely at the camera, with his arm around a red-haired woman and a small toddler on his hip. He looked happy, really happy, and not the everyday-sun-is-shinning happiness either. It was more . . . Abby couldn't really describe it, but it was there and she felt a pang of jealously. Could she make Gibbs feel like that? She wasn't sure.

Abby gently placed the photograph back on the bed and picked up another. This time, it was a smiling school portrait of a little girl. She was smiling innocently at the camera, and Abby noted that she looked a lot like Gibbs. She flipped over the photograph and read the inscription.

_Kelly, age 7. _

"Oh, Gibbs," Abby murmured dejectedly. She couldn't begin to understand how Gibbs must have felt, what he still felt. But she could, Abby told herself, if Gibbs would open up to her. Aside from the offhand comment when she pressed him, Gibbs did not talk of his first wife and child, even though it sometimes irked Abby. Surely she was important enough, loved enough, to warrant the occasional story or glimpse into her boyfriend's former life.

Keeping hold of the portrait, Abby scanned the pile of photographs and extracted one that was hidden beneath two others. It was a simple picture. Kelly and Shannon were standing hand in hand, wearing floral dresses. Both were smiling brightly and Abby felt tears come to her eyes as she took in their expressions . . . expressions of happiness, joy, and love.

"God, I can't imagine . . ." Abby let herself trail off as her thumb traced the outlines of the two figures. Her heart, if possible, went out even more to her lover, her protector, her best friend. "I . . . I wish he would just . . ."

"Just what, Abby?" A voice jerked Abby out of her thoughts and made her jump. She flinched and clumsily sprang from the bed, letting the photographs drop from her hands and flutter to the floor.

"I, uh, Gibbs," Abby blushed, as though she'd been caught doing something forbidden. Her cheeks turned red as she felt the heat of Gibbs' gaze. He was looking at her patiently, almost as if he was waiting for an explanation.

"I . . . I saw the light on in the bedroom and I thought, you know, you left the light on," Abby started as her eyes darted around the room. "So I thought I would turn it off . . . stop global warming and all. But then I saw the pic-photos and well, I . . ."

"You thought you'd have a look," Gibbs finished softly, no anger in his voice, only sadness.

Abby nodded and looked guilty. "I'm sorry."

"There is no need to be sorry, Abs," Gibbs muttered as he walked over to where Abby was standing. He bent over and picked up the two fallen photographs. He placed them gently into the wooden box, and started on the rest of them.

"Wait," Abby said, placing a gentle hand on Gibbs' wrist. "Leave them. I . . . want to look at the rest . . ."

"Why?" Gibbs questioned, a little more anger evidence in his voice.

"I want to know about them," Abby replied loudly, annoyed at Gibbs' reluctance to share his past. "You've never told me about them. I want to know. I want to know Kelly's favourite colour, her favourite food. What about Shannon? What did she like? Dislike?"

"Why?" Gibbs repeated as he continued to pick up the photographs. "It's in the past."

"In the past?!" Abby all but shrieked, getting frustrated at her boyfriend. "I would hardly call them in the past!"

"Yes, Abby, they are." Gibbs closed the box and placed it on the bedside table. "Shannon and Kelly are my past, and you are my future."

"What kind of future will it be if you don't trust me?" Abby yelled. As if he really believed that Shannon and Kelly weren't important enough to share with her.

"I do trust you," Gibbs replied, taking a step closer towards Abby. "Abs, you know I trust you."

"Well, it seems not enough to tell me about your family," Abby snapped, glaring at him.

"What about them? There's nothing to it. They're gone!" Gibbs yelled back.

"Exactly," Abby countered, "and that's all the more reason why you should share them with me."

"It doesn't concern you."

"Doesn't concern me?" Abby looked hurt. "Oh, I think it concerns me, all right."

"Why?" Gibbs snapped, also looking hurt, and a little angry.

"Do you really have to ask why?" Abby was shooting him daggers. She really was a formidable opponent once riled up.

"Abs." Gibbs tried to pacify the situation by placing his hand on Abby's shoulder. She instantly shrugged it off and took a step back, narrowly missing the bedside table.

"Don't. Don't touch me." Abby murmured. She raised her hands and pushed passed Gibbs, knocking his shoulder as she did so.

"Abby," Gibbs called after her, but she ignored him. "Abby!" He listened to her footsteps thunder down the stairs and then heard the sound of the front door slamming.

Gibbs sighed and turned to the bedside table. He flipped open the lid of the box. "What would you do?" he asked softly, gazing at the two-dimensional figures. "What should I do?"

* * *

The moon shone as Abby kicked the dirt underneath her. The chains creaked as she swung back and forth. She had always liked the park, and the middle of the night. It was peaceful and quiet, and it allowed her some breathing space.

She sighed and let a tear fall. It was streaking her mascara, but she didn't care. How could Gibbs say his family did not matter? Family was everything, or at least Abby thought it was. Another tear fell into her lap and Abby wiped it away angrily. If Gibbs didn't want to talk to her, then it was his problem, not hers. At least, that's what she told herself.

"Yellow, her favourite colour was yellow, like the sun," a voice cut through the stillness of the night. Abby's head shot up at the familiar voice. "And carrots . . . she loved carrots . . ."

"Gibbs?" Abby's voiced sounded soft. She looked up at him with tear streaked cheeks.

"Shannon liked dancing, ballroom dancing," Gibbs continued, sitting down on the swing next to Abby. "And movies, she loved going to the movies. But she hated snails, and bees."

Abby sniffled. "What?"

"You asked me what they were like," Gibbs replied, kicking back and swinging forward. "And now you know."

"But I want to know everything," Abby breathed, turning to face Gibbs. "I want to _know_ them. Please, Gibbs." Abby offered him a small smile, and looked at him with doe eyes.

Gibbs was silent for a moment before saying, "Yeah, maybe it's time to start remembering the past." He continued swinging. "Kelly loved the park."

Abby nodded feverishly. "Yeah, I bet she did." Abby looked sad for a moment. "Do you miss them?"

"Everyday, Abs, everyday," Gibbs replied softly. "And I'll never stop missing them."

"And I don't expect you to," Abby smiled gently, through her tears. She stopped swinging and jumped off while it was in mid-air. She giggled. "I love the park, too."

"You would have liked her," Gibbs said off-handedly, also coming to a halt.

"Shannon or Kelly?"

"Both, you would have liked both," Gibbs replied confidently, standing up. "And they would have loved you, too. Just like I love you." Gibbs turned to Abby and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I shut you out all those times . . ."

"Hey, don't apologise, it's a sign of weakness," Abby reassured him, almost flying into his embrace.

Gibbs laughed softly. "Rule number 49: Sometimes apologising is not a sign of weakness, especially to the ones you love."

"You love me?" Abby snuggled into Gibbs' chest.

"Of course I do, you know that."

"That I do," Abby replied with a large smile and placed a kiss on his lips that Gibbs returned.

Once they had broken apart, Gibbs noticed that Abby was shivering. He immediately shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. Abby smiled a thank you as he pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"Let's go back home before you freeze to death," he suggested lightly, and then sighed. "I think it'll be take-out . . . unless you like extra fried chicken. I _may_ have left the oven on . . ."

"Take-out is good," Abby replied as they started walking, Gibbs' arm around her shoulders. "Can we get that noodle and vegetable thingy, and lemon chicken?"

"Shannon loved lemon chicken," Gibbs' voice echoed in the distance, "so I think lemon chicken is an excellent choice."

"What about rice? Fried or plain . . ." And as they walked closer towards Gibbs' house, their voices were lost in the wind.

_Finis _


End file.
